Conquered By The Blind Alpha

Shower

ALLE

I don’t expect the world outside the room to be what it is.

But then again, I’m not sure what to expect when the door opens a few hours after Winter leaves me with parting words that make me shake.

Shiver with rage. Yes. That’s exactly what it is.

A petite woman walks in, her eyes kind, and she looks no older than I am. Her brown hair is in two buns that face either side of her head, and her eyes are a deep-colored brown, like mine. She isn’t slim, yet she has a body that is small and softer compared to mine. She has curves in all the right places, and a pretty smile.

Perhaps that is why I can’t bring myself to glare at her when she walks in, damn this ducking weakness for beautiful women.

“I’m Freda,” she says, holding out a hand, her grin wider than the open door.

I eye her pretty fingers warily rather than take them, and keep every snarky remark that bubbles up to myself.

Her expression falls and she drops her hand to the side awkwardly, opening the door even wider as if to prove the reason she is here isn’t one to be wary of. But I know better.

I am in a stranger’s territory. A man I’ve never heard of. A place I don’t know what to expect.

Wariness should be, and is now, my second nature.

“I’m not here to hurt you,” she holds up both hands slowly, taking a cautious step forward, and I bite back the urge to laugh.

Not with those arms she’s not.

Instead, I cross my arms over my chest and narrow my eyes at her.

Waiting.

A few seconds of silence pass between us and she seems increasingly uncomfortable with each passing moment. Well, at least she isn’t like Dr. Cheekbones, who seems to be out for my life.

“I, um…” Freda clears her throat. “Winter sent me to move you to a better room…” Her eyes shift from mine. “One that is befitting of your status.”

That amuses me.

“Oh?” I finally speak. “And what exactly is my status?”

I have an idea of what her reply is going to be, but I ask anyway. Because I want to know just how deranged the people in this territory are.

Does she realize how I ended here? How many lives are taken by the man whose orders she is following?

“His mate, of course,” she grins as though it is the most obvious thing to say. “And between you and me…” She gestures her pink-painted nails between our bodies. “I really hope you’ll be our future Luna too.”

I simply scoff.

Because one, that’s never going to happen.

Two, I would hate to take the Doctor’s place and become just as insufferable as she is.

Three, I intend to kill everyone in this ‘pack’.

And burn it down.

Freda giggles, mischief clouding her once cautious eyes, making me even more wary of the woman.

Maybe not everyone.

This one is clearly harmless. Too harmless.

Freda gestures at the door and then walks out as if to prove that it is okay for me to do so, and when I do, I am taken aback by the opulence that greets me.

It’s just a simple hallway… yet.

While my pack castle carries the weight of age and tradition, this place breathes polished luxury and modern design.

The hallway stretches wide and bright, lined with smooth stone and glass walls that reflect soft lights. Tall windows show the snow-covered forest outside, clean and endless. Art hangs with purpose, not clutter. Everything feels controlled, rich, and alive. I walk slower without meaning to, curiosity pulling my steps forward.

It is an estate, I realize. The kind that stupidly rich people own and live in rather than get a normal-sized house like normal f*****g people.

“Is this…” My feet move before I can stop them, eyes taking in the scenery that lies beyond the windows and the perfectly carved path that is set before the forest, the ground covered in snow.

“…your… pack house?”

“Yes and no,” comes Freda’s rather enthusiastic reply as she comes to stand by me, facing the window. “Beautiful, isn’t it?” She sighs. “I love to come here during the holidays, I’ve loved it since I was a child,” she narrates with a sort of heaviness in her tone that has a stark contrast to the brightness in her eyes.

“This is one of our fifteen pack houses.”

“Fif--” I blink in shock, turning fully to look at her. “I’m sorry, what?”

Freda laughs, as though she expects my reaction. As much as I try to compose myself, I am not doing a very good job.

My pack isn’t small. It is considered one of the biggest in the country, but I only have two pack houses, and only because more than a few of my pack members choose to be in service to the pack rather than live their lives as they please.

Even so, we still have empty rooms in the castle… had.

Right.

My initial awe tapers down as the vivid memories of my burned-down home come to mind.

“If he has so much…” My voice is low. “Why did he have to destroy mine?”

Pain.

Is that pain in my voice? Or is it the anger I haven’t been able to shake in the past few days? The anger that has been building so much that it now feels like a palpable weight on my chest.

“I…” Freda’s voice is hesitant now. She looks at me with pity and something else that seems to be confusion.

“I…” She stutters again, looking up at me. “You are not what I expected, Alle.”

This is the first time she speaks my name, the first time she actually gives away something about herself.

I would have asked what she expected, but the memories of their screams remind me that isn’t the goal.

The weakness that remains heavy in my stomach reminds me of what is most important.

Okay. So he has fifteen pack houses, so we are looking at a population of hundreds of thousands, not just a few.

Fine.

Maybe I won’t kill everybody. I am not the monster that he is.

But I will be a monster to him.

For the rest of the short trip, I keep my eyes trained on the marble floors and the back of Freda’s shoes as we walk. I am well aware that we pass by three people in total. I count my steps, as well as the turns, but I refuse myself the awe and curiosity of the building’s beauty.

Because I know better than to let such silly distractions take my focus.

Freda doesn’t say another word. I guess my reminder of what her Alpha has done to my people seems to make her smile die down permanently.

She turns a corner after walking for almost five minutes, and there, a tall wooden door, which seems like the only antique thing in the entire building, stands before us.

“This is the room the Alpha has prepared for you,” she holds the doorknob and twists, revealing a spacious bedroom with vaulted ceilings and floor-to-ceiling windows.

Hues of blue, black, and cream paint the walls and every other piece of furniture or material that decorates its interior.

It is beautiful. But a cell.

“This used to be the Alpha’s room when he was younger,” Freda explains as we step in, her eyes taking in the room carefully as though checking to see if something is out of place.

“He doesn’t live here?”

Freda shakes her head. “Winter doesn’t live in the building, but he comes here often.” She simply says, not giving anything else away, and a part of me wonders what kind of Alpha doesn’t live in his own pack house.

Freda shows me the bathroom, the almost empty walk-in closet, and the remote that controls the windows, lights, and TV, then she says she will personally bring my dinner up in a few minutes.

She asks if I need something specific. As much as I don’t want to, I remain silent, not wanting her or anyone else to think me complacent in this situation.

Once the room is empty, I try to shift again. Over and over, I reach for my beast until I am drenched in sweat and silent tears, blood spilling past my lips from the strain.

So, I do the next best thing.

I shower.